


Shadows of the Shadow

by Deadly Night_Sh1ft (CrookedMath)



Series: Unnecessary Shadows [10]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blackmail, Confessions, Death Rituals, Despair, Emotional Hurt, Emotional release, Emotionally Repressed, Fictional Religion & Theology, Internal Conflict, Letters, Magical Weapons, Male-Female Friendship, Memories, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Oaths & Vows, Past Lives, Rarities, Reference to Genocide, Regret, Secret Compassion, Soul Bond, Unrequited Love, Vulnerability, mentioned Original Female Character/Original Male Character, mentioned Undertaker/Original Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-18 23:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19345054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedMath/pseuds/Deadly%20Night_Sh1ft
Summary: Anguish turns to into despair when the letter the Prophet wrote is read. However, in spite of the crushing weight of the dark emotions, a ritual must be carried out. It is then and there on the Prophet's desolate homeworld that a shadow's soul is bared.This is a continuation of the last two words at the end of Unnecessary Object, which were part of a letter written from one friend to another. Hopefully you read it, but you don't have to because this is basically character development.





	Shadows of the Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Hesse's innermost thoughts /
> 
> This is the hologram version of me back again with yet another one shot I wrote on my phone. Yeah, so I did an OC-centric story. Don't you want to know what the letter Emily wrote to Hesse was all about? I know I do. Besides, you can't have Undertaker without Hesse and vice versa. They're part of each other. Refer to part 6.  
> This contains references to genocide, extreme funeral rites, copious amounts of absinthe consumption (kids, don't get wasted), other obscure violent stuff, and humanizing a sadist. ***You have been warned***  
> Enjoy.

The passage of time was meaningless to him, but not _her_ , and not _this_. The Gray Shadow prepared another glass of absinthe with trembling hands and reseated himself behind the desk bearing the scars of his hatred for everything it symbolized. He spent decades consumed by anguish and despair for what he did to _her_. Every day he suffered from the unrelenting torment of despair because he chose his survival mechanism of absolute neutrality over his heart. No amount of false self rationalising in the universe would ever free him from the guilt he suffered. Not even his most trusted and faithful subordinate knew about the threat looming over his head if he failed to obey his orders. 

/Blackmail has its privileges, doesn't it?/

"I could have freed her, lied, and said that I killed her." He summoned his terrifying battle axe and hurled it at the office wall. "Fuck it! As if anyone would believe me, especially because _everyone_ knows about my damn feelings for her… " The shattered man collapsed into his chair with his head in his hands, unwilling or unable to complete his audible thought. He picked up the letter again and adjusted his glasses in preparation for another round of written torture.

_Hesse,_

_If you're reading this, Stella and I are dead. I know that you are doubting our faith right now, and that's ok; the Goddess is wise and forgiving. Doubt is normal for a man with a shattered heart, but please,_ please, _believe in Her, for She has come. The Conduit is here. Enclosed is only a part of the ancient Prophecy of my people. Take your time to read it._

_I'm sorry for lying to all of you, especially Stella. I couldn't bring myself to tell her that Death wasn't a single person she was destined for, but she was so obsessed with the 'pretty one' that I couldn't bring myself to correct her. It would've broken her little hearts. As the years went by, I was even more overwhelmed with work than I ever have been. Then I was roped into the cloning project, so I never got to properly educate her or the other girls, for that matter. I have accepted responsibility for my sins and the fact that I will never see Her Divine Light. Truthfully, I'd rather be in the Void with Marcus and my mate until the End._

_Hesse, we've been close friends for almost two centuries. I know that beneath your sadism, you are a good man and always have been. It's a secret I'm taking with me to my grave. I've always wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your frequent visits to my homeworld before the genocide. I remember you telling me that the first visit was a pilgrimage for you; that you were waiting for millennia to achieve this goal. Out of all the beings you've encountered throughout your existence as a god, you've never once harmed, or even thought of harming, any of my people. Do you remember how much the child Rarities loved you, especially little Teresa? She idolized you. She decided to become a warrior because of you, and she persuaded her friends to join her. She never forgot the pleasure you gave her as a woman and always hoped she provided you with the same in equal measure._

The Gray Shadow paused and wiped away nostalgic tears. "I remember Teresa. She was, indeed, very beautiful as a woman. Her hair was the color of the deep blue sea, and her skin was carved from the finest mahogany; my passionflower, Teresa," he murmured. The Councilman laughed as he recalled more fond memories of the little Rarities who loved him. "Those little girls were so clumsy while they were learning their dances. Marcus would have gone rogue just to be with them, even if it was for just one day. Goddess, he was a kid at heart himself." He cleaned off the tearstained lenses of his glasses and resumed reading.

_You were the only male of any race that the sacred animals adored. We, as a race-as Rarities-knew what you were before you became Death incarnate. You may not believe me, but we knew..._ I _knew. It's a once in a lifetime event for us to meet a high priest of our faith from another realm; not only that, but a martyr turned god who never lost his faith. You were a treasure to us._

"Stella, you, your people… all of you... every single one of you were treasures...are still treasures to me; from infant to the eldest on the cusp of death." He took a sip of his drink and let his mind drift for a few moments.

/If I had known about the genocide ahead of time, I would have employed my loyalists to put a stop to it… I would have died to protect your world... to protect _her_. I'll live and die by _her_ command, unless or until She dictates otherwise./

_I know that you kept our world a secret from your people. Tonight I found out that it was Martin who followed you the last time you visited us before the genocide. However, he refused to tell me who gave him the order to destroy my world after he reported you. I know that he hates you, but I didn't think he would go so far as to destroy my world just to make you suffer; to hurt you at your core because of your absolute faith in our Mistress. He is a twisted, vindictive man, but he's also lonely, without a friend in the world. If he hadn't have done what he did... I'd have more compassion for him. As strange as it seems, he truly did love Stella in his own way..._

_I'm so sorry for inadvertently getting you involved in the eugenics project. I shouldn't have said a word about it outside the lab, but I was so angry I…_

"'I just had to confide in someone I felt I could trust'," the Councilman read aloud through the smeared ink. "I don't blame you. No one could have predicted what happened to Marcus that day. You lost a lover, and I lost a precious friend. It hurt me as deeply as it hurt Adrian, but nowhere near as much as it did you." He prepared another glass of absinthe as he flipped the page over, only to be greeted with more heart wrenching words. He downed the absinthe in one go, then repeated the ritual two more times. He decided to nurse the next glass while he continued the self torture.

_I blame myself for your being blackmailed by the bastard I've been playing the whore to for all these years. I don't know what else he was holding over your head that had you backed into a corner, but it must have been heinous if you wound up answering to him, even though you're his superior. You have to admit, Marcus has a gift. I didn't feel a thing when he took my eye._

/He did have a gift for illusion as well. You're lucky he used it to conceal what he did from both of your records./

_Hesse, I remember the day you came to me in tears; your conscience exposed, consumed by anguish, and weighed down by your sin. You made yourself naked and vulnerable to me, and I'm sorry that I dug deeper than I should have. I'm sorry for knowing that you have been spending so many centuries trying to reconcile your sadism with your humanity. You were once a peaceful, compassionate priest in your human life, but your bond with Legendary Death forever changed that upon your reincarnation. His natural sadism became yours because he is forever a part of you. Goddess, Hesse, he loves you so much, so very much, that it hurts_ me. _I'd tell you to give him a chance, but it's not in our nature to return the love of one who cannot control their jealous rage._

_The bond between you and Stella is absolute and blessed by our Mistress because she, too, kissed your face when you cried. I tried to tell you on that day, and I'm telling you now, because you can't interrupt me this time, that the piercing she gave you is a sign of love, not friendship. It's an ancient, esoteric bonding ritual that is known only to Rarities. Sadly, it has been all but discontinued after we were exiled to our temple city following the war._

The Gray Shadow slid slender fingers down cold, curved metal impaling his left ear, always trying to recapture every kiss the fair haired Rarity gave him and the obscure words that followed. "Even beyond the Veil, you consistently play tricks on me. I wonder who the real sadist is?"

_I am sorry that I know how tender you are, especially with Legendary Death. I am sorry that you have been so lonely; lonely enough to deny yourself the love you so freely gave and received as a human. I'm sorry that I know it was Stella who opened your heart. I'm sorry that I know you're still attached to Teresa, although you never loved her._

/We were kindred spirits in the art of war./

_You are an unusual man. That's what is so amazing about you. Reconcile yourself with your_ self, _and you will be free._

_I regret my involvement in both projects. I had no other way to watch over the Conduit-Stella-after the genocide. At least I have now redeemed myself in the Eyes of our Mistress. Tell Legendary Death that I'm sorry for denying him his kill, and thank him for his love and devotion to Stella._

"You did an excellent job of it, too, my old friend," the shadow mused. The second sheet of paper stared him in the face, taunting him with its cruelty. He didn't even get a chance to think of the legendary reaper by the time he was faced with written torment. He danced another couple of weary songs with the green fairy before he started reading the second sorrowful page.

_Please forgive me for never telling you this, but I didn't think you'd believe me if I did… During the two years Stella was in her deep sleep, she called out for you many times-more times than I can count-before finally forgetting you. She wanted you to touch her again; to love her. She missed you, and she forgave you. I wonder if she would have remembered you had you had the ability to visit her? I'm sorry you couldn't. I understand that you had a vow to Legendary Death to uphold. One man with a small, private army can only do so much to take down an entire realm._

The gray haired reaper held back tears desperate to break free from their ocular cages. "I couldn't tell Stella for her safety and for the success of my mission. I couldn't risk those perverted pieces of shit conjuring up a new drug or form of torture that could extract the truth from her fragile mind." He wept against his will, torn between love for a woman and a vow to the man he was forever bonded with. 

/Get it together, Hesse, you're almost done with this letter./

_Another thing I failed to elaborate on, is the meaning of Death. You are Death just as much as the 'pretty one' is. In a way, she is destined for Legendary Death. She must know what the fruit of the False One truly is before the Prophecy is fulfilled. However, I lied to both of them when I said that they would never sever. The One she is destined for, and I sincerely wish that I would have been more forthcoming with all of you… The One for Stella is you, Hesse…_ it's you.

_Emily_

The newly ordained Councilman had no more tears to shed; the absinthe saw to that. However, it didn't cloud his judgement bad enough to do what must be done next. He effortlessly tore his battle axe free from the wall. Instead of breaking protocol, he opted to walk the moderate distance back to the library, his dark aura terrifying anyone in his path, including his faithful subordinate.

/E tu, Adam?/

xxxxxx

The gray reaper had hoped that he would be alone in the library, but when he arrived he was slapped in the face with the sight of the Dispatch manager. Apparently, someone in general security's management put him on corpse duty along with several other security agents. They were most likely scolded for the abysmal failure at doing their jobs and this was their punishment. He suppressed a bout of laughter at the degenerate manager's expense as he reluctantly sorted insides from outsides.

All traces of any humor were lost when he saw him approach the Rarity's body. After violently asserting his authority over the pruner wielding manager, the Councilman carefully scooped up the Prophet's body and prepared for his egress with the following warning: "Follow me, and I will make you eat your own dismembered flesh before you breathe your last unnecessary breath."

The Dispatch manager was completely speechless. All he could do was watch fire surround the Gray Shadow as a powerful shockwave of energy exploded from his battle axe, enabling him to make his egress to an unknown destination.

xxxxxx

Everything the religious libertine once treasured was laid waste and left to rot under twin stars illuminating a sky as red as the blood that soiled the shifting, scarlet sand beneath his feet. Nothing but the bleached bones of a race that harmed no one undeserving in addition to those of his people ornamented the desolate landscape.

/ _My_ people? Why should I acknowledge a race that wantonly commits genocide?/

He held the lifeless Rarity close, tenderly running his slender fingers through her disheveled white hair. To the east, he saw what was left of the temple city and smiled, relieved that the ancient monument to the Goddess still stood watch over the wasteland. "Emily, She still stands," he said softly to the albino as soon as they entered the temple city. As he gazed up at the wolf's head, memories of his visits assaulted him.

_"Hesse, come play with us," a little dark skinned, blue haired Rarity cajoled in her native tongue._

_"Yeah, come play with us and the sacred animals, not the boring old priestesses." More child Rarities chimed in, tugging his hands with bright, happy lights dancing in their mismatched eyes._

_He didn't like human children, but child Rarities were vastly different. They were adults in the bodies of children, and yet, they still held so many child like qualities. "Fine," he reluctantly agreed, although_ they knew _better; and they were right._

_"I want to be just like you when I reach my summer," the blue haired girl gushed. "I don't want to be a boring priestess."_

_"Do what you want, Teresa, but don't forget to love your Sisters and the Goddess above all else. You will be a beautiful warrior in the summer of your life."_

_"I'll have my own army, just like you!"_

_The Gray Shadow shook his head. "I didn't say anything about that."_

_"But, I know," she confidently insisted._

_"True," he conceded. "Don't separate yourself or your 'army' from your Sisters on account of me. Do you promise to remain faithful to our Mistress no matter what?"_

_"I promise, Hesse," the future warrior swore with an innocent kiss._

"If only I had known… I would have done something or died trying," he tearfully murmured. "Stella could have grown up normally with her Sisters; happy, free, and loved. I'd still be able to see her, and Teresa, too. All I have left is a shattered heart borne of despair and beautiful memories shrouded by a grave sin."

He said a soft prayer before entering the inner sanctum that was forbidden to all but the priestly class. "My Sublime Goddess, forgive Your Servant for the ritual I'm going to perform. From _my_ homeworld, we did not consume our dying with teeth, but burned them alive with fire. I know that my texts are corrupt and am aware that this may be a misinterpretation of Your Holy Words. I am but one man, and I cannot consume an entire body alone. This will have to be done in the way of _my_ people. Please do not look upon me as a blasphemer."

Satisfied that he had properly supplicated the deity, he proceeded to carefully clean and dress the Seer's body. Tears sprang to his eyes at her sheer beauty, even with a missing eye.

/Especially with a missing eye./

She was laid out in white ritual dance garments stained with the ravages of time and disuse. She was so tall, her padded feet slightly hung off the edge of the altar. He couldn't resist touching them. It wasn't necessarily sexual in nature, rather it was fascination that drew him to her feet. He desperately wished that she would wake up and kick him in the face the way she always did when he "tickled" her feet.

_"Stop doing that, Hesse! You're almost as bad as Marcus!" She mischievously smiled, heterochromatic eyes shining bright. "You have a foot fetish, don't you?" she teased._

_"No, but I do find them as fascinating as your inner eyelids. An amphibious trait paired with a canine trait together in one body never ceases to amaze me."_

The first recycled suicide adjusted his dead friend's bone headdress. "It's a back fetish that I have, Em," he finally admitted, knowing that she would never know now that she was dead. He stared blankly at the open space below the altar carved out of the raised, obsidian platform; a single structure, united as one for all time. Flashes of ritual dances flickered in the sand blowing through the ruins. "They were so beautiful," he whispered, voice on the verge of tears. He looked down at the deceased Rarity, choice made to bare his soul, and gently held her stiffening hand.

"I did what you asked and brought you back home. Your people have always been precious to me. I knew that one day I would find this place, even before my martyrdom. Though they never voiced it, my own people began to question my authority when I spoke of this place. I knew because I, too, was like you. I had-and still have-eyes of Divine Fire. 

"You will never know how right you were about me. I was never a bloodthirsty killer as a human. I admit to derailing from the proper rituals at times. I just couldn't bear to see the eldest among us burn alive, so I allowed them to starve themselves to death; what the Cathars referred to as Endura hundreds of years after my death. Emily, I value freedom above all, and that is what I taught my people; however, I made sure to remain faithful to our Mistress. I was human, and as a human, I had a different perspective on living life. The Goddess is omniscient, so I don't need to explain to Her that which She already knows.

"I would have rather gone to Hell than become a god," the broken man lamented. "Knowing that I was trapped in the flux of the demiurge's laws... knowing that I'd never feel Her warm embrace...Hell would have been more preferable than _this_ , then I would have never betrayed the one _woman_ I ever truly loved."

The soul crushing weight of his guilt brought him to his knees. Since he was literally alone in the world he openly wept, allowing millennia of withheld emotions to flow through him, eliminating his default coping mechanism of bloodlust.

/This is the second time I've broken down like this; the first time being the day I betrayed my beautiful love./

"Adrian never took my compassion away," the former high priest confessed. "He never changed who I used to be, but he gave me part of himself when I was reborn as this… this _god_. Ever since then, we've shared a deep bond, and ever since then, I've been grappling with what I am. How can I reconcile myself as I am now with what I was then?" He paused and laid his head on the lifeless Rarity's shoulder. "Neutrality, Emily. That's what became my survival mechanism since the dawn of my reaping days. You know my mantra. I was once proud of it, but since that day... I've felt nothing but hatred for it.

"I was afraid to show compassion to anyone else other than your people. Even when Adrian was hurt by loss, I showed no compassion. I just stared at him like an idiot and went on killing sprees. I didn't want to hurt him, but I was afraid to show _any_ vulnerability. I'm still blind. That never changed, although you'd think that becoming a god would give me at least some eyesight. I had to rely on my heightened senses and my neutrality to survive, and it worked. Unfortunately, it worked too well."

The broken reaper shattered as his fingers drifted down the curved spike in his left ear as they so often do when he thought of _her_. "I was torn between a centuries old vow and a new, yet unrequited love," the sinner choked out between heart shredding sobs. He threw his head back, gray waves slashing the scorching desert air, and released hundreds of years of pent up rage in a devastating scream. His haunting agony echoed throughout the temple ruins, eliciting another cry of agony aimed at the dual suns hanging high in the blood red sky. 

When the shadow's agony died down to torment, he continued, "My freedom or a fate worse than a thousand deaths. If I could go back in time, I'd give in to my feelings and go rogue for her, my beautiful love. Adam was-and is still-capable of leading my army of loyalists without me. All I need do is give the word. Instead, I acted on principle… no, out of fear that my plans would be discovered, resulting in my loyalists being executed for defecting. Furthermore, what I did with her was done in secret. Gaines found out about the expiration of her partial autonomy order, and he knew that I couldn't petition the Council for an extension after the five years ran its course. He knew that I'd use my power outside the project to keep her with me. It's ironic that I was his superior above, and he was mine below. Nothing like blackmail to fuck you in the ass. I don't blame you for anything. You did nothing wrong. It wasn't just my knowledge that was used against me; it was also my libertinage.

"I acted strangely because the threat of being sent to the asylum had been looming over me since the beginning of the project. You've never seen what happens to reapers who are sent there. I took a tour of it when it opened. The Councilman I was with proudly showed off the electric prison cells one is expected to spend an indeterminate amount of their lives within. Radical thinkers and ancients are labeled defective and lobotomized. Freethinkers are abused to the point of learned helplessness, thus making it easy to brainwash them. Libertines and rebels are castrated in addition to the aforementioned 'treatments'. I'm a libertine and one of the oldest in the realm, so I knew what awaited me if I didn't comply. I was afraid and more than angry... I couldn't think straight. I am… Emily, I felt powerless and violated. I wanted to die, but I made a promise to Adrian. Goddess, I miss him more than he'll ever know. I'm resetting the realm for him because I love him in my own way. I regret never telling him before I accepted promotion. 

"Em, I never wanted to betray her. I never wanted to let them take her away. I never…How can you fuck with me like this? How can you tell me that she forgave me? How can you tell me that she called out for me, begging to go back home? How can you tell me she was in love with me, then suddenly forget my very existence? How can you be so cruel to me? You _knew_ it was out of my hands. Had I been sent to the asylum, _I'd never be able to see any of you again_ , and I'd never have the opportunity to atone for my sins." 

He recalled the day he illegally called off the eugenics project and the war it was about to spawn. He knew that the captive Rarities were suffering. He knew that they were living in fear of themselves and of their own deaths. He knew that by the laws of their shared faith that they must be killed; however, he never knew the grisly, blasphemous nature of their deaths until long after they had been carried out.

/I should have killed them myself./

"I'm so sorry for everything, Emily. I'm sorry for hurting you… for betraying _her_. Even if I set everything right in my realm and do my best to atone for my sins in the eyes of our Mistress, I don't expect to be forgiven. I will gladly accept Her beautiful Wrath for betraying Her most sacred Daughter. I have never loved before and with _her_ … " The shadow looked up at the blood red sky, tears streaming down his borderline androgynous face. "Why did her beautiful eyes betray her vitriolic threat? How could her pained eyes tell me what I've longed to hear while her mouth tells me the opposite? I deserve it. For what I did, I deserve it." 

The high priest turned death god slowly rose to his feet, taking even more time to gather his composure. "When I was with Stella, I was happy-truly happy-for the first time in my long existence. Thank you, Emily, for your friendship. I'll always treasure you." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "I will avenge your people in the name of the Sublime Goddess," he swore, broken wrath heavily weighing down his haunting voice.

The ancient uttered an esoteric incantation he learned on one of the many occasions he visited the desolation surrounding him and struck the ground beneath the altar with his battle axe. Sonic shockwaves burst into flames and consumed the Prophet's body. "My Sublime Goddess, I am a sinner undeserving of Your Love. I ask not that You forgive me, but instead, allow me to atone for my sins before I meet my end and burn in Your Holy Hatred."

As the body burned, he ventured into the lower chambers of the temple ruins to retrieve his belongings. The idols were miraculously still in tact. One in particular stuck out from all the rest. It was a crudely carved, red sandstone idol that was clearly crafted by a child. The reaper's eyes widened when he realized he was looking at his own effigy, twisting the guilty knife deeper into his heart. He carefully returned the idol to its niche in the stone wall. "Teresa, my passionflower, I'm not worthy of your love at all," he murmured to the blue haired warrior's spirit.

As per _his_ people's ritual requirements, he collected the albino's ashes and prayed over them before allowing the wind to carry them where it wished. He picked up a leftover bone from her headdress that refused to burn to keep as a memento of their friendship. He summoned his terrifying battle axe and gazed up at the marvelous stone monument to the Goddess still standing above the wasteland.

"Neutrality is my survival mechanism, and I live in a self made hell of loneliness. At my age, time is an enemy that can never be vanquished. I said that to Stella, and I regret it." He bowed his head. "The last that I ask-that I beg-of you, is to let us meet once again in peace, so I can tell her that I love her in that beautiful place I spoke of so long ago." He lifted his head and could have sworn that he saw a glimmer of light flicker in the monument's split gems watching over the desolation that was once home to the birthplace of the purest form of Love.

**Author's Note:**

> I lost three days and three nights of sleep writing this. My phone died... I lost count how many times it died. I'm not sorry that this is OC-centric. I'm not sorry that I'm taking my Rarities and my OCs with me to the epic where they belong. I'm not sorry for writing it, but I'm sorry for the delays it's causing here. That and my lack of a working computer. Why do my chapters have to be so long?


End file.
